Reunited in Danger

by Joya Fields

  A bolt lock clanked and she shifted her attention to the front door.

  “Keely.” Amy Bittinger glanced behind her into the house, opened the door just wide enough to squeeze through, and stepped outside. She wore black and white Nike pants, a pristine white shirt and matching jacket, and her makeup looked expertly applied. Keely only bothered with mascara when she went to work—if she happened to remember it.

  “What’s up?”

  Keely took a step back to make room on the landing. “We need your help. You speak Thai, right?”

  Amy nodded, but focused her attention on Logan.

  The front door opened and Craig Bittinger made a point of hushing a barking dog before stepping outside, closing the door behind him. He wrapped his left arm around Amy’s waist and thrust out his right hand. “Nice to see you again, Detective North,” he said. “We’d invite you in, but our dog isn’t used to strangers yet. He’s a rescue.”

  Craig flashed a smile at Keely. “How’s your dad doing?”

  “He’s doing a lot better, thanks.” She glanced at Amy. “I’m trying to find out what happened to Su Lin, the pregnant girl from Los Angeles who was supposed to fly into Baltimore yesterday. She didn’t show up at BWI. Her parents only speak Thai.”

  “I’m happy to help,” Amy said, exchanging a glance with her husband.

  “Amy’s your woman. She speaks to her mom in Thailand at least once a week,” Craig said.

  Logan took out the list of questions for Su Lin’s parents. “By the way, I hear you have a briefcase that matches the one stolen from Ben, Mr. Bittinger.”

  Craig nodded. “Yes, I do.”

  “Didn’t you think that was important enough to tell me when Keely asked you about Ben’s briefcase at the hospital the other day?”

  Craig met Logan’s gaze. “If I remember correctly, you asked if I knew what was in Ben’s briefcase. Honestly, I didn’t make the connection about having a similar one.”

  “Out of curiosity, is it nearby? Could I see it?” Logan asked.

  “Of course. Anything we can do to help Ben.” Craig glanced at his wife. “I’ll be right back.” He slipped back inside the house, and came out seconds later with a briefcase marked with the initials CAB. The Loving Arms two-heart logo was etched into the leather. Without Logan asking, Craig opened it, displaying neatly organized pads of paper, pens, and a few menus from his diner.

  Nothing suspicious about those contents. Unless Logan saw something she didn’t.

  Logan nodded. “Thanks.”

  Keely cleared her throat. “Amy, I have Su Lin’s parents’ phone number. Can I call them and have you translate for me?”

  Amy turned to Craig. “Can you help the kids finish their workbooks for Bible Study?”

  “Sure.” Craig kissed his wife’s forehead, then went back inside.

  “What should I ask?” Amy took a seat on the top step of the porch.

  Keely sat beside her and Logan handed Amy the list of questions and a pen. After punching in the phone number, he held the phone to his ear for a second and then passed it to Amy.

  When someone answered, Amy spoke to them in Thai for a minute, then glanced at Logan. “It’s Su Lin’s mother,” she said, holding the phone away from her mouth. “She’s from Mae Sot, the same town in Thailand as my parents. I can’t believe it.”

  Logan propped one foot on the bottom step, leaning forward, and nodded encouragingly.

  Amy glanced at the piece of paper and rattled off a question. She listened, then held the phone away. “Su’s mother blames herself. Wishes she’d stood up to her husband about Su’s claim she was raped.”

  Logan and Keely nodded and Amy returned to her conversation with Su’s mother. She jotted some notes on the paper, making sounds of agreement. Then she frowned and shook her head.

  After a few more minutes of conversation, Amy disconnected the call and looked at Logan. “Her parents reported Su Lin missing. The last tip the police have is that somebody saw her at a bus stop.”

  “Interesting,” Logan said, taking his phone as she held it out.

  “Poor woman. She was beside herself.” Amy glanced toward her house. “Makes me want to go in and hug my kids.”

  Guilt trickled through Keely’s veins. She’d judged Amy for years because she’d seemed aloof and selfish. She patted the woman’s leg. “Thanks, Amy.”

  Amy stood and flashed an incongruously flirtatious grin at Logan, moving close to hand him the paper. “I hope you can read my handwriting. If not, call me.”

  When Amy stepped back inside, Keely fought against a jealous twist in her belly.

  The second she and Logan were back in his SUV, she asked, “Why did you make that face when Amy said someone saw Su Lin at a bus stop?”

  “You noticed that, huh? Thought I had my cop face on.”

  It hadn’t been more than a slight shift in his expression, but she’d caught it. “Guess I’ve known you too long for your cop face to work on me.” Her stomach did a funny flip at the meaning behind the words. “So what does it mean?”

  He hesitated, staring at his steering wheel. “Bus stops are the playground of pedophiles and kidnappers. These punks don’t just hang out at the bus stops—they ride the busses, befriend teens, and gain their trust.”

  “And?” Keely asked, thinking of a lonely pregnant girl, away from everything she knows.

  “Then they use that trust against the girls. Put them into service.”

  His words took a minute to pass through the censors in her mind, the filter that tried to keep images of really bad stuff away from her brain. “You’re talking about prostitution?”

  He looked grim. “I’m talking about modern-day slavery.”

  …

  Logan steered the SUV up to the entry gate of the city detention center, ready to take Keely into the jail to talk to the father of the missing girl she had tried to rescue. Helping her with her case was important, and he needed to concentrate. But the words human trafficking kept bouncing around his head like rocks in a tornado. Most people had no idea how close to home atrocities like human trafficking lived.

  Keely didn’t need to know the sordid details, though. Logan hit the brakes at the barred and secured entry gate. “Shit.”

  She glanced up. “Closed?”

  “Shouldn’t be.” He rolled down his window and pressed a buzzer on the brick wall of the guard house.

  “No visitors.” A stern male voice crackled through the speaker.

  “Detective Logan North.”

  “Lockdown. No entry,” the man said.

  Logan grunted and backed the truck out of the lane, parking near the street. He pulled out his cell and punched in a number. “What’s up at the detention center?” He listened for a moment and then shook his head. “Thanks.”

  “What?” Keely asked.

  “Inmate fight. They probably won’t allow visitors until after the weekend.” He knew how much she’d wanted to see Padilla. How much optimism she held quietly in her heart that she could find the missing child.

  Keely shook her head. “That poor little girl Melita might be out there, wandering around…or worse…” She blinked and turned to stare at the exterior of the detention center.

  Logan followed her gaze, always amazed at the gray castle-like exterior of the intimidating jail built in 1859. “We’ll pressure the dad as soon as the lockdown’s over. If you think he knows something, trust your gut.”

  “I will. Thanks.” She turned sideways, bending one knee and bringing it to the seat as she faced him. “Thanks for helping with this…and with my dad’s case.”

  “I owe your dad. I wouldn’t be a cop, wouldn’t be who I am, without him. An abusive father, an alcoholic mom—not good odds for a city kid.” He didn’t filter his past. Never had. Keely knew exactly what his parents had been like.

  “He loves you like the son he never had.”

  “And he’s a better father than the one life dealt me. Did you know the only reason I squeaked
through high school was because your dad hired a tutor for me my senior year?”

  She tilted her head. “He never mentioned it. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Embarrassed, I guess. The tutor figured out I had dyslexia. Ben made sure my teachers understood my disability, and that I received accommodations. I passed all the required exit exams for my diploma.” He smiled at the memory of that last report card.

  “I’m always amazed at how many people’s lives my dad has touched,” she murmured.

  “After the Marines, I had the confidence to enroll in the Criminal Justice Program and then night classes at Towson University and graduate, all while working as a beat cop with BPD. I easily passed the detective’s exam, too.” He shot her a look. “All because of your dad’s help. I owe him, Keely. I can’t not help him.”

  “No wonder he’s so proud of you.”

  He sucked in a breath and focused on the windshield. He’d left his comfort zone. Time to return to normal. He shifted into reverse and backed onto the street, leaving the rest of his thoughts unspoken. He couldn’t be around Keely much longer without wanting more from her.

  And for her own sake, that couldn’t happen.

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning, Keely grabbed her father’s empty coffee mug and tiptoed out of the small living room. He’d been asleep by the time she got back the night before, and no matter how badly she wanted to find out what her dad wanted to tell her about Logan, she didn’t have the heart to wake him.

  In the kitchen, she leaned against the old Formica countertop and fought to keep from imagining what he had gone through on the day of the attack.

  She heard her dad cough. She grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator and hustled to his side in the living room. He struggled to sit, his face contorted with pain. She cringed, wishing she could hurry his healing.

  “Dad, let me help you.” She handed him the water and arranged the pillows to prop him up on the sofa.

  “Thanks.” He took a long swig.

  She smiled and kneeled on the hardwood floor beside him. She loved the old floors in this house where she’d grown up. A warm house, filled with love. And loving people. It was part of the reason she’d bought a house in Charles Village. She wanted a piece of what she’d grown up with. She laid a gentle hand on his arm.

  He smiled, but then his face turned serious. He studied her for a moment. “I see it in your eyes. You…” He glanced around the room as if searching for the right words. “You still have feelings for Logan.”

  Wishing they didn’t have to have this conversation because she feared she’d find out something she didn’t want to know, she tried to ward off the blood rushing to her head that was giving her a headache. Her whole body flew into overdrive. Why ruin a good day with bad news? Her brain screamed stall. “Dad, let me get you some soup. You need to keep up your strength.” She stood, but he reached over and grabbed her wrist.

  “In a minute, Keely. This is hard to say. Sit with me.”

  Oh God. She really didn’t want to hear this.

  “When you were eighteen and the police arrested Logan for fighting…”

  Keely nodded, afraid to trust her voice. That had been the last time she’d seen Logan before this week. The cops had busted him for fighting, and after being released, instead of coming back to her, he’d taken off and joined the Marines.

  Suddenly, the cozy sofa area felt too small. As though her dad’s words and her own worries filled it, leaving no space for her. She wanted to bolt from the room.

  Ben continued. “He beat up a kid who was beating up a smaller kid. His actions saved the littler kid. What he did was justified.” He shifted in his seat. “But Keely, Logan didn’t just come up with the idea to join the Marines. Your mother talked him into it. That night.”

  Wait. Why would her mom talk him into leaving? That couldn’t be right. Logan had taken off without a word after his arrest. The charges had been dropped, but he’d never even bothered to come tell her. Instead, he’d run. “What do you mean?”

  Her father sighed and looked across the room, through the linen curtains to the street outside. “She loved you so much, Keely.”

  “I know that.”

  He turned to face her. “She knew you and Logan were getting serious. She didn’t want you to make the same mistake she had.”

  “What mistake?” Keely was getting lost in the conversation. First she’d thought he was going to tell her something horrible about Logan, and now he was talking about some mistake Lillian had made.

  “Getting pregnant,” he said, shaking his head. “Your mom got pregnant at age fifteen and put the baby up for adoption. It’s why we started Loving Arms.”

  She opened her mouth to protest.

  He held up a hand. “I liked Logan, always have. But your mother didn’t. She thought he was headed down a bad road and would take you with him. You have to admit, he had some serious anger issues back then. Didn’t take much to get him to throw a punch. Your mom had seen so many good girls in this neighborhood ruin their lives because of the guys they fell in with…”

  She stared at him. “But what did that have to do with Logan joining the Marines?”

  “He’d called the house when he got busted. I was out with a parishioner, so your mom went to the jail to bail him out. Haul him home. And told him he’d be doing you a big favor if he left town. For good. Gave him the number for a recruiter.”

  Keely sucked in a mouthful of air. “She told him to join the Marines?” The words came out slowly. Her mouth was so dry she was surprised she could get the words out at all.

  “Yes. And then she arranged for him to work on a farm in Virginia until boot camp started.”

  Visions of her mother’s face when Keely had told her the truth slashed into her mind. Her mom had known about them, about what they’d done together. After all, the consequences of their actions weren’t easy to hide.

  God, how she hated thinking about those horrible weeks after Logan left town, leaving her not only heartbroken, but alone to deal with those consequences.

  She squeezed her eyes shut to force the picture and the memory of the physical pain away. “Are you telling me that all those weeks I tried to get in touch with Logan, Mom knew how to contact him but didn’t tell me?”

  “I can’t say I approved of her actions, Keely, but I know she did it because she loved you.”

  Keely prided herself on her ability to hold back her tears. Tears were a sign of weakness. She would not let herself be weak. She halted the stinging in her eyes by blinking several times. “Logan could have told me.”

  Her dad’s expression saddened. “He thought he was doing right by you. He phoned you a few times after that, but your mom always intercepted.” He stared at the floor between them. “I could have interfered, could have found a way to let you talk to him. But I was a coward.”

  She met her father’s gaze. His eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

  “Don’t hate us, Keely. Please.”

  Nausea churned in her stomach and she wanted to throw up. Instead, she squeezed her eyes shut. All these years she’d thought Logan left without saying good-bye because he was selfish….because he didn’t care about her.

  Hope and pain battled for attention in her head. Her heart ached as old hurts reopened.

  She laid a hand on her father’s. Right now, she needed to ease the worried look in his eyes. No matter what, she could never hate her mother and father. They had saved her from a life of foster homes after her biological mom stuck one too many needles in her veins and died of AIDS. “Dad, I know in my heart you both acted out of love.”

  Her dad had protected her mother for years by keeping her secret. And maybe he was right to do so. If Keely had found out, she might have held it against her mom. Hated her for it. Blamed her for ruining any chance she might have had at a relationship with Logan.

  But did her dad know the whole truth? Did he know why her mom hated Logan? If so, he wasn’t say
ing. The memory of that day so long ago resurfaced. The blood, the pain. Her mother’s disappointed face. She pushed the memory away. She’d process it all later.

  “Now that you know, the rest is up to you,” he said.

  Hurt and anger battled for attention. Why didn’t Logan stay and fight to be with her? She settled her breathing.

  He had told her he loved her, and then he’d left town. He had to have known she was heartbroken. But three years ago, after he’d returned to Baltimore, she’d called him, swallowing her pride. He’d never called back. Why, years after her mother had ordered him away, had he not at least told her what happened?

  Sudden realization hit. He’d been protecting her memory of her mother. Like her father, Logan hadn’t wanted her to think poorly of Lillian.

  Maybe he did care.

  Hope bloomed inside her.

  “Okay. I’ll work it out.” She tried to smile, but her lips refused to cooperate. She needed to be alone, if only for a few minutes, to process her father’s words. She stood and brushed the wrinkles from her jeans. “You need to eat. Some of the ladies from church dropped off meals for you.”

  “Oh yes…the casserole ladies. They always drop off enough food to feed an army when something happens.”

  In the kitchen, she heated stew, stirring it absently, inhaling the scent of steak, carrots, and thick gravy as it bubbled in the pot. Maybe Logan had feelings for her but had never acted on them.

  She had to wonder why, though, every time they started to get close, Logan ran away.

  She needed to talk to him about what had happened. And soon. This secret had festered between them for too many years and they needed to discuss their past. A long conversation in the car, in privacy. She’d waited ten years to understand why he’d left her, and she needed to tell him she now knew the truth. Her head throbbed with apprehension and worry.

  How would he react when she shared her new knowledge?

  …

  Rain pounded against the front window, startling Keely. All day it had ebbed and flowed, settling down to a slow drizzle for a while and then picking up again with a vengeance. Logan had called earlier to tell her the lockdown was over. He was on his way to pick her up and take her over to speak with Melita’s father, but for now, she was tending to her father. When she heard someone knock at the front door, she peeked out the window. Margaret was on the stoop. She hurried to let the woman in.